Nicholas got the sense this wasn’t the first time today Browning had said those words.
“Noted,” Bo said, “and I’ll make sure you’re the first in line to share your thoughts with the director, should our plan fail. At the very least, it might save your job, as well as the director’s. Can you manage getting our forensic techs into the exhibit without drawing any attention to them?”
“We’ll have to turn off the cameras for the exhibit room so the people in the comms center don’t realize we’re sneaking caterers in. And I know you don’t need reminding, but the jewels are priceless, and incredibly old. We must take special precautions during the evidence collection. As curator, it’s my head to roll if anything were to happen to the crown jewels during the course of the investigation.”
Mike said, “Anything more, you mean.”
Victoria shot her a look, but her voice was calm enough. “I’m fully aware that my head will roll if the Koh-i-Noor isn’t found and returned quickly.”
Mike said, “Sorry, Victoria. I didn’t mean to intimate you were at fault here. My people are the best, so you can relax. They won’t mess anything up.”
Victoria looked like she wanted to snipe back, but she took a breath and smiled. “We’re all under stress, Agent Caine. Let’s go get the video feeds uploaded to the NGI database.”
19
A bank of screens took up one entire wall in the massive communications center. Nicholas counted ten rows of five, with separate workstations monitoring access to every nook and cranny of the museum. It was impressive, and he said so.
Bo sighed. “Didn’t help us much when it turned out to be so easy to shut down the electricity.”
Nicholas said, “Maybe that means we should add a first-rate security expert to master thief. Narrow our focus even more.”
Mike said, “Or not. If you could get your hands on the device used to shut everything down, all you’d have to know is how to turn it on and where to fasten it.”
Of course she was right. He nodded.
The four of them went up a small set of stairs into Bo’s glass-walled office, elevated so he could see everything happening in the room. Bo’s phone rang, and he motioned for them to keep talking while he answered it.
Victoria said, “There’s a whole new round of staff about to come on the clock, and people are already starting to trickle in for the event.” She pointed at a monitor that clearly showed well-dressed people meandering up the entrance steps. The paparazzi hadn’t begun their frantic picture-taking yet; they were assembling on either side of the red carpet, waiting for the important and notorious to make an appearance. News vans were lined up on both sides of Fifth Avenue and as close as they could get on all the side streets.
“These early arrivals are probably planning to have a drink or a bite to eat before the gala begins, but the bulk of the people will start showing in less than two hours.”
Nicholas said, “We need to move fast, then. Mike, what’s your forensic team’s ETA?”
“They’re ten minutes out.”
Bo dropped the phone in the cradle. “You’re well in hand with Victoria, so I’m going to go get Savich and Sherlock over here. I’ll meet up with you in an hour or so.”
“Uncle Bo, call my mobile if you need anything.”
Mike sat at a terminal and started typing, pulling the two sets of data together. When the program began to run, a series of mug shots began streaming across the monitor, faster than the eye could keep up with. Nicholas noted that the facial-recognition technology used bone structure as points of reference. It would be accurate to the letter, should a match occur.
Mike said to Victoria, “While this gets started, tell me more about how Peter Grisley got permission to make the replicas. Could he have something to do with this?”
“I seriously doubt it. He was allowed to utilize the molds from the Queen Victoria cut done in Antwerp in 1852 to digitally map the Koh-i-Noor. He petitioned the palace to be allowed to make the replicas for a research project he was working on. Since they were fakes, no one was worried about them. We were wrong.”
Mike looked up from the keyboard. “What do you mean, the Queen Victoria cut?”
Victoria’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you don’t know the history of the stone? The Koh-i-Noor’s story is quite incredible. When it came into Queen Victoria’s possession in 1850, it was one hundred eighty-three carats, huge, but alas, hardly beautiful. It was dull and badly cut. Diamonds are meant to sparkle, and this one didn’t. At an exposition held to showcase it, it looked even less impressive because it was poorly displayed in a gilded cage on dark velvet. The public complained so much Prince Albert, the Queen’s consort, hired a lapidary named Coster from Antwerp to recut the stone from a rose cut to a brilliant, which would make it shine and glow and impress the British people with its beauty.
“When Coster was finished cutting and polishing the stone, it was down to a mere hundred and five carats; on the other hand, it was much prettier. Albert then had it made into a brooch for Queen Victoria. Over the years, it’s been the focal point of three crowns, Queen Alexandra’s, Queen Mary’s, and Queen Elizabeth’s.”
A mere hundred and five carats. Mike thought of her mother’s precious diamond solitaire, only a carat. Talk about a new perspective.
“Coster came under fire, actually, because the stone was so much smaller, though all the experts rushed to his defense, claimed he did the best with what he had. Nowadays, they might have been able to save more of the original stone, with the laser cuts and all, but back then, it was line things up as best you can, take a crack at it with a hammer, and pray.”
Nicholas
pictured a man in a leather apron sitting before the stone with a hammer and chisel in his hands, saying, “Please, God, please, God, please, God.” And whack. He knew it was slightly more complicated than that, but for the most part, luck, or the lack thereof, had played a large role.